Alchemisland

The third three An ordained knifeblade gleams A tallow light reaches shadowed aisles through the western Window nearest the vestry where Once a well-dressed gentry Had seats assigned for vespers Now is it gone, like November to a June rememberer.

In a dirty church far from its best term. Its former Vicar yet holds his cooled boldness in a stiffness of shoulder And a certain vigour; a milk-curdling figure in his day, all piss and vinegar. Older than eighty, sovereigned fingers fag stained and booze shaky On his nightly sojourn across the grange turns away.…

A little to the left While I pilfer all you have left Reconnaissance, know you keep it in a hidden cleft Between two nail-mad boards, behind the bed So in I crept on knell of ten. In my vault I’ve got fuck all Wanna wage like a footballer But I didn’t shouldertoss spilled salt Haven’t…

Sons fucking their mams Six toed sprogs in prams Spam from a can, back to Blitz rationing Our behaviour profoundly irrational Back lashed badly, I would make a poor rasher In South Africa, the first openly gay imam is blasted Woke is dead and that’s a disaster Who really cares and who is just an…

Atop that stroppy bay afraid of his own shadow Stroked his mane, whispered a name he didn’t yet know to be his Gucci reins rustless led him into a russet coppice’s shade, Bucephalus his name, his master would needs be Great. He sated from the Indus; Bathed in the Euphrates, famed for bound angels; Smote…